“Catherine! Get away from the …” Louisa yelled. Her head dropped, clattering against the hardwood floor and sending the cymbals ringing again between her ears. The world spun as the assassin’s hand latched on around her throat instead. Louisa stumbled, vision swimming and lights flickering, back up to her feet as she tried to heave in any trace of air that could make it through his punishing grip.
“Might as well just kill me,” Louisa wheezed. She didn’t have a way to get him whatever it was he wanted. And selfishly she didn’t want to watch him if he did get through the door to Catherine and River. He had likely already cut down Shirley and Marcus if he had made it this far. But there was no reaction, not even a flicker, on the face of her assailant. And then her body went through the door. Louisa felt the full force of the solid wood against her shoulder and then it gave way with a swift kick next to her hip.